The Washerwomen of Caen

Here the children Came next morn, Walking by The river Orne; Near the poplars On the green, Where the Washerwives Are seen. Here they looked At old Nannette, Wringing out The garments wet; Saw how Eugenie, Her daughter, Soaked them first In running water; Watched the washers Soaping, scrubbing, With their mallets Rubbing, drubbing— Working hard With all their might, Till the clothes Were clean and white.